


Understanding

by Mertiya



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Finn gets a support network, Internalized Transphobia, Kylo and Hux are a fucked-up mess, M/M, Rey is supportive, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers, Trans Amilyn Holdo, Trans Armitage Hux, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Unhealthy Relationships, trans Finn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 20:49:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13174932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/Mertiya
Summary: Hux and Finn share an unexpected connection.





	Understanding

**Author's Note:**

> I'm deliberately being a little vague and handwavey with the timeline here. I'm not quite sure how this happened but here it is, so I hope you enjoy.

The child is thin, perhaps a little small for their age. They are dressed in the same plain white jumpsuit as the others, and as they stand at a slightly crooked attention, they appear much the same as any of the other new recruits. Hux sighs and gives Phasma a sideways look.

            “What is the problem, and why did you find it necessary to call me?” he asks. To his surprise, Phasma evinces slight hesitation before answering.

            “She won’t dress with the others anymore,” she says finally. “It’s ludicrous. She has been obedient in every other regard; she has been punished for her insubordination; she has been told that this is not the way to show loyalty to the First Order—she has never acted this way before. In fact, her scores until now have been exemplary. I simply—” She clacks her teeth shut. “Sir,” she says. “The child maintains that she is a boy.”

            The words hit Hux sickeningly between his ribs, bringing a rush of sudden panicked adrenaline that he hasn’t felt in years, and it’s actually difficult to override the terrified animal instinct to cross his arms over his chest. The thin twin scar lines are suddenly burning. Somehow, he maintains his composure. Somehow, he raises an utterly scornful eyebrow at Phasma. “If the child says he is a boy, then presumably he knows.”

            The child makes a very soft noise of surprise, quickly suppressed.

            “But…sir…” Phasma hesitates, clearly feeling out of her depth and unsure how to proceed.

            Hux sighs again, pinching the bridge of his forehead between his fingers. “Must I do everything?” he asks. “Send him to a doctor. Probably there is a hormonal treatment that will help. If I recall, there are a few disorders that require such treatment.”

            Phasma opens her mouth, closes it again. Nods. “Yes, sir.”

            “Much easier to deal with medical issues than to make a fuss about it.” Maybe that was too far, but fuck it. Hux is angry and doesn’t want to be angry, still trying to deal with the sudden fear. “Just do it,” he tells Phasma, and whirls away and stalks off.

            If he spends an extra fifteen minutes in his quarters, double-checking the width of his hips in the mirror, no one has to know.

~

            When Finn reaches the Resistance, after most of the adrenaline and terror wears off, he realizes that there’s no one here to help him. Hux was a terrifying commander in some ways and also, Finn thinks with renewed vigor, pretty damn evil, but he made certain Finn got his shot. Finn knows—has known ever since the day he woke up from surgery with the new, unfamiliar-but-right sensation of weight between his legs to see Hux in close conference with the physician—who the mysterious benefactor was who always made sure of it.

            Finn is pretty sure he knows why, too, but it’s none of his business. He’s so glad to be well away from the First Order that it’s a full three days before he realizes that he could be in trouble now. He doesn’t have anyone to go to. He doesn’t have anyone to turn to. None of them will understand, but he can’t stand the terrifying fear of what will happen if he doesn’t get the shot. Maybe nothing, he thinks. Maybe he’s had enough, he doesn’t know. He knows so little about his own medical treatment—only little bits and snippets that someone (probably Hux) sent him through a totally secure channel.

            It’s the not knowing that overwhelms him in the end, and he goes to Rey. She listens calmly, looking a little confused. “And you don’t know what you need?” she asks, after he’s finished, waiting for her disapproval. “We’d better talk to the General. She’s bound to know.”

            “No—” Finn clutches at her hand. “Don’t you understand? She’d—think I was—” he gropes for the word, but all he comes up with is, “—broken.”

            Rey’s bland eyes search his for a moment, and then her face goes a strange color. “She absolutely would not,” she says fiercely. “And nobody else would, either. If they do, I’ll—I’ll fight them.”

            Hearing Rey sound so much like Poe is what convinces Finn to go along with it, although he’s reluctant. To his surprise, General Organa, although she asks a few overly personal questions, is very understanding and helpful, willing to work with Finn to find out what he needs. To his relief, her manner towards him doesn’t change at all. “In fact, I have someone I’d like you to meet,” she tells him.

            _Someone_ turns out to be Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo. She’s a lovely woman whose smile brightens when she hears Leia’s quiet explanation. “I understand,” she says softly. “Don’t worry, Finn, I’ve had very—similar experiences. From the other direction, I suppose you might say. But I know a good doctor.”

            Finn doesn’t tell too many other people. It’s none of their business, firstly, and besides that he’s still not sure how they’d react. He still remembers Phasma, still remembers what it was like in the beginning. He doesn’t want to deal with that again. Not ever.

            Things come to a head sometime after they’ve escaped from Crait and rendezvoused with their allies. Rose is doing better, and the Resistance is beginning to be able to think about fighting back again. And Poe comes charging in excitedly, saying he’s found a way to throw the First Order into chaos. Apparently, an ally of another ally has secret knowledge about General Hux that could ruin— _her_.

            And, oh—by the Force—how Finn’s heart constricts when he hears that. There’s a ringing in his ears. It’s not being a woman, of course, some small, cold, frightened part of him points out. It’s the _lying_ about it that will ruin Hux. Because you can be whatever you want as long as what you are matches with what people say you are.

            Rey’s hand on Finn’s shoulder. Rey’s saying something. _It’s all right_. Frowning at Poe. “General Hux is not a woman,” she says quietly. “And I don’t think you should use this information.”

            “What do you _mean_?” Poe demands. “Who cares _what_ Hux is? Any weapon we have against them, we should be using.”

            Finn is shaking his head, the pain in his throat making it almost too difficult to speak. Finally, he manages in something barely more than a whisper, “Not like this.”

            Poe gapes at him. “I mean, the message has already been sent,” he says, sounding confused, and Finn closes his eyes.

~

            Hux wakes, sleepy and warm, beneath the blankets of Ren’s far-from-austere bed. He’s playing a dangerous game with the new Supreme Leader, but in the past weeks, they’ve managed to forge out an interesting balance. Neither one is dispensible; neither one can gain the upper hand against the other. And the sex is good.

            Ren’s voice filters in from the other room. He’s talking to someone; by the crackling, fuzzy quality of the other person, it’s over a secure channel, and somewhere far away. “She won’t survive this,” Hux hears over the line, and he wonders drowsily who they’re talking about. “…won’t stand for such a deception. Hux will be done for.”

            His breath stops moving in his lungs. No time. He let himself get too comfortable and now _this_. He reaches beneath his pillow, but this isn’t his room; it’s Ren’s. His blaster is on the other side of the room, so far away it might as well be on the other side of the ship.

            No _choice_. Flinging himself out of bed, he lands hard on his knees, springing back up immediately and racing flat-out across the room, because speed is his only possible savior now. He reaches for the blaster, feels the heavy shape of it in his hand—and then, as he raises it, he hears the door open behind him. He half-turns, but it’s too late; before he can level the blaster, Ren’s invisible hand catches his wrist, trapping it over his head, holding him so roughly he wonders if the delicate bones will snap.

            The blaster trembles in Hux’s hand. Too late, again, although with the delicate balance of power between them, murdering Ren at this point would have been an admission of defeat in any case. He lost the moment the boy told the Resistance what he knew. Now he will be stripped, laid bare, his plans all brought to wreck and ruin, all because his damned father could not accept the son he was given, because he chose, once, stupidly, to help a single child just like him.

            He will not shut his eyes. He cannot move, his arm pinned back against the bed by Ren’s impossible power, but he will at least not turn his eyes from his loss.

            “Don’t do anything stupid, Hux,” Ren says; pain shoots through his hand as it’s forcibly opened, to let the blaster drop to the sheets beneath. “Trying to kill me now? Really? I thought we’d reached an agreement.” Hux’s eyes dart towards the communicating door leading from the bedroom out into the main room. “Oh, so you heard that?” Ren, surprisingly, sinks onto the bed to retrieve the blaster. “The resistance makes up such ludicrous stories these days.”

            Hux’s eyes widen before he can stop himself. What is Ren saying?

            “I am saying,” Ren tells him, so strangely calm, so icy cold and strangely calm, “that I know you very well indeed, and I think I would know if you were not the man you say you are.”

            There is something in his eyes. He knows exactly how true the story he’s been told is. Hux may not have Force powers, but he understands people, and he can read Kylo Ren like a book by now. On everything but this. He thought he could predict his every move, but there—it seems that he was wrong.

            Slowly, the invisible hand releases his wrist, and he allows himself to grimace and rub at it with the other hand, although not to even look in the direction of the blaster. “Well,” he says finally. “If they’ve nothing better to do with their time.”

            Ren smirks. “I’m surprised at you, Armitage,” he says, and Hux twitches in faint anger at the familiarity—he may rut between the sheets with Kylo, but he’s never said they were on first-name terms.

            “Really,” he says icily.

            “I thought you knew better than to react like me,” Kylo says, and his smile is almost _playful_. Hux opens his mouth, closes it. Takes a breath, and suddenly finds himself laughing.

            “How was I to know that there are situations in which you can be relied upon _not_ to believe whatever idiotic lie you’re told?” he snaps in response. The scars on his chest burn faintly, but it’s a phantom pain.

            “I’m hurt that you think I would jeopardize our partnership for such a stupid reason,” Kylo breathes, leaning across the bed.

            “This from the man who ordered every ship to fire on a _single man_ ,” Hux retorts. Kylo growls angrily, and the next moment he’s kissing Hux, although it’s really closer to a bite.

            The balance is restored. He still doesn’t quite understand how or why, and that is going to be a problem if he can’t figure it out, as it could threaten that balance one day down the line. But for now, the balance is safe. _He’s_ safe, as safe as he can be in an enemy’s bed. And there is something to be said for an enemy who respects you.

            _Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,_ Ren murmurs in his mind.

            _Get the fuck out of my head,_ Hux tells him, but he lets Ren put a hand to his throat and push him backwards.

~

            Finn spends nearly a week torturing himself over what could happen to Hux. He wouldn’t mind him dying, but—he doesn’t deserve to die like this. Finally, he cracks, begs Rey not to tell anyone, and sends out a coded message, just three words, signal-scrambled till it would be impossible for anyone to trace the source, _Are you exposed?_

Poe, after seeing the effects of his actions, after his first indignant protestations that seeing the First Order fall is worth any price, apologizes to Finn. “I’m sorry,” he says, hesitantly. “I didn’t understand. I’m still not sure I do.” Finn’s not sure he’s ready to forgive him yet, but he nods, and Poe seems to understand. They start eating dinner together again, at any rate.

            Five days later, Rose rushes in and grabs Finn’s arm. “There’s a communication for you—it’s on a First Order frequency,” she says. “It’s addressed to FN-2187.”

            “What does it say?” Finn asks, stomach turning over with fear.

            “It’s just one word,” Rose tells him, “ ‘ _Safe_.’ ”

            Finn still hates the First Order, still hates the General. But now he can breathe again.


End file.
